Grey Street
by Kenta Divina
Summary: The story of the one caught between two men who are night and day. Julia's story told with a song from Dave Mathews. How Spike lost his eye. How is it? R and R please...
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer:   I own nothing but my own creativity. I took what others have created and have used them for my own pleasure. Got a problem with that, then I'm sorry. I'm using the Dave Mathew's song Grey Street, and Cowboy Bebop. I heard the song and immediately thought of Spike and Julia's history….

Please tell me what you think. 

Part One: Walking into Destiny

            Here we go again – another mission of misery…

            Standing before the Red Dragon Syndicate, a blond lady wearing a non-descript suit kept her eyes on the ground. She didn't bother to glance at her companions – avoiding one of them deliberately.

            [Oh look at how she listens – She says nothing of what she thinks]

            Her mind barely registered the white head of the man at her right as he nodded to something said. It was just another mission, just the usual…

            [She just goes stumbling through her memories – Staring out onto Grey Street]

            Again her mind wandered, knowing nothing was required of her except her skill. She hated this work. Hated the past of her family and father's work that imprisoned her – the debt he left for her to pay.

            [She thinks, 'How did I come to this? I dream myself a thousand times around the world, but I can't get out of this place.']

            [There's and emptiness inside her and she'd do anything to fill it in. But all the colors mix together – to grey.]

            Vicious – the man she had given herself to nearly a year ago. When they had been introduced she saw one like herself – a fighter caught in a trap and determined to master it. She found one with a like heart – and felt pity for him.

            [And it breaks her heart – How she wishes it was different.]

            He was so cold. He embraced that cold. How she wished she could find that focus he had.

            The three crossed the city in a plain black car. She drove as the other two loaded and checked weapons. The mission was simple – take out the small workshop of an ignorant member. The fool thought he could simply walk away from the syndicate and start up a gang on his own. The odds were one to four, but they were a team.

            Driving to the docks, she parked the car behind a stack of cargo crates. Stepping out, she sighed. A gun presented itself to her and she looked up into a pair of warm brown eyes. This man who had disrupted everything in her life. The exact opposite of what she wanted – an order, placement, and trust in precision. She could heel her chest tighten as she took the gun, trying to ignore how his fingers lingered.

            Bullets whined through the air, Vicious braced himself behind a file cabinet. Cold blue eyes narrowed and he nodded. She rolled out from behind a chop – shop car and began firing. The two men dashed forwards under her cover. Both of them grinned as they waded into the gangsters. Fists, blood, and bodies flew through the air. Back to back, Vicious and his comrade paused for breath. Silence reigned. 

            She stood, holstering her weapon and dusting her hands. About to offer a smile, she saw the pair of brown eyes widen. The small click of a hammer made her turn. Their target leader stood with a gun pointed at her heart.

            The shot went off just as someone screamed.

            "Julia!"

            Something instantaneously collided with her back, nearly knocking her senseless. A second shot immediately followed the first, and a body thudded to the ground. When her vision cleared, she looked up and the weight crushing her flat on her back.

            "Spike!" She breathed.

            His right eye was a mess. His good eye was full of concern – for her.

            "Are you alright?"

            Stunned, she watched the blood run down his face. Someone jerked him back and off of her.

            "You idiot! Have you learned nothing from me?" Vicious snarled as he handed him his handkerchief.

            Kneeling next to the one he called his girlfriend; he pulled her to a sitting position. After looking her over, he tucked his pistol away. "Watch your back every second." He kissed her – a hard press of lips to lips – before standing to confirm the kills. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Spike pressing the cloth to his face. A sudden urge made her reach out and touch him. He turned and smiled.

            [She prays to God most every night – And though she swears it doesn't listen, there's a hope in her it might.]

            The church was empty. No surprise since it was after midnight. Even quite steps echoed in the cathedral. Prayer candles made the shadows dance in the hall of the dead. None paused to take note of the living soul.

            She lit a candle. Whether it was for those who died that night or for herself, she didn't know.

            [She says, "I pray, but they fall on deaf ears. Am I supposed to take it on myself to get out of this place?"]

            Turning to leave, she caught the glow of a cigarette in the darkness. She stopped.

            Spike walked up to her, stopping a breath away. A wad of gauze covered the damaged eye as it awaited replacement. The bandage wrapped around his head, nearly lost in his thick curls. She held his good eye steadily. Minutes ticked by, but neither moved.

            Cigarette ash drifted to the floor.

            "Are you the answer?"

            Without removing his hands from his pockets, Spike leaned the few remaining inches and lightly touched her lips. She drew back and took the tobacco from his mouth. Gently she fingered the bandage.

            "Why did you do it? It should have been him – Vicious."

            He reached up to catch her hand against his face.

            "I would give you more that just my eye."

            Warm brown eyes – destroying everything she had reached for. He destroyed her ideal perfection and replaced it with something unpredictable. She hungered for what she knew would cause chaos; wanted the unpredictable. He held that unpredictability and held her fate. This was a cage worse than the syndicate, but one that she willingly walked in to. 

            She pulled Spike closer, tilted his head to the candlelight and kissed him, knowing her destiny was sealed.

            [There's a loneliness inside her and she'd do anything to fill it in – And though it's red blood bleeding from her now, it feels like cold blue ice in her heart. When all the colors mix together – to grey.]

            As her hands wove through his hair, she felt him lean forwards and lock her in his arms. He was warm. He was passion. He was life when all she had known was death. But she was still full of death.

            [And it breaks her heart.]

To be continued…….. depending on the response. There's still another half of the song to go. R and R!!!


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing with a copyright… that's why it's a copyright. I got nice feedback from a few, not as much as I really wanted, but since this was in my head and would not go away, I'll give it to you anyway. Enjoy!

Part Two: End of Destiny

            Like watching a dream…

            [There's a stranger speaks outside her door – Says "Take what you can from your dreams. Make them real as anything. It'd take the work out of the courage."]

            She was loyal – loyal to the syndicate, Vicious, and Spike, but lately Spike had been talking strangely. Talking about getting out of the Red Dragons. She knew it was impossible, but at the same time the thought sent a thrill through her. A wild hope – a dream that only Spike could create and make her believe possible. But Vicious was on to them. He had yet to catch them in the act, but he knew. This misplaced bit of Heaven would have to be returned soon. Spike was the dream – Vicious the reality.

            The time had come, just as she expected. But she would not let the one bright thing in her would of grey be destroyed. Vicious didn't want to kill his partner. He thought he was being cruel, ordering her to kill him, but she understood. Spike could escape, but not with her. He would try to reach her once more, she knew, if she didn't meet him, but she couldn't let him see her again.

            It was raining. How fitting. She opened the window and quickly shredded the slip of paper he had given her, watching them fall away like snow. For a moment she stood looking up at the clouds and let the sky cry the tears she would not let herself indulge. When he came, she would be ready. She loved the dream too much to let it perish. She would let it go.

            The rain persisted into the evening. It blurred everything outside the window together, but she continued to wait. There he was, coming out of the ally, head bare despite the steady drizzle. He carried something… flowers. Her heart contracted painfully. Before he crossed the street, she reached for the phone, glad that her hand was steady as she dialed.

            [But she says, "Please, there's a crazy man that's creeping outside my door. I live at the corner of Grey Street and the end of the world."]

            Gunfire lit the early evening. Sharp snaps talked back and forth. When it was finally silent she lifted her head from her arms. The street was empty except for a shredded bunch of flowers in the middle of the road. He was gone.

            But as she turned away, a figure came around the corner. It calmly walked down the sidewalk beneath her window and paused. Mismatched eyes met hers with more pain and love than she could believe possible. A thin red line mixed with water down the side of his face. He lifted a single red rose to his lips and let it drop to the pavement. Without looking back he continued down the road.

            Two single tears fell.

            "Spike, I'm sorry."

            A few minutes later an explosion lit up the distance.

            [There's an emptiness inside her and she'd do anything to fill it in.]

            Cold – it was so cold.

            To come so far – to finally find the courage to reach for a dream, only for it to end here was the most unfair twist to life. Hot lead burned through her heart, melting the ice for an instant. Now she could feel life leaking out of her body, leaving only the cold.

            [And though it's red blood bleeding from her now, it feels like cold blue ice in her heart. She feels like kicking out all the windows and setting fire to this life.]

            How unfair the world was. It made her angry that she was given a chance for true freedom and happiness, only to have the past rip it away. She looked up at the one who had held her future. He had come back for her. She almost thought he'd given up – was afraid that he might have given up on her.

            Spike held her limp body close. She wished she could find the strength to move, to kiss him one last time, or even just to smile. Breathing was too hard. He began to fade. She fought to keep him in focus, wanting to hold on to him, but everything began turning grey. With her last breath she whispered,

            "It was just a dream."

            [She could change everything about her using colors bold and bright. But all the colors mix together – to grey.]

            If only she could have found the courage to reach further. If only she could have let go of reality for one moment – let go of the drab existence for a world of hopeful dreams. 

            If only…

            [And it breaks her heart – It breaks her heart… to grey.]

The End – To a Cowboy's dream…

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